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VARIATIONS ON AN 


Mill 


OLD THEME 


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JOHANNA PIRSCHER 










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COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

Quasi una fantasia 



Ananke reigns no more; her children are 
But servants in the house of our God 



VARIATIONS ON AN 
OLD THEME 

JOHANNA PIRSCHER 



WMUS 




BOSTON 
RICHARD G. BADGER 

The Gorham Press 
1909 



Copyright, 1909, hy Johanna Piracher 
All Rights Reserved 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Tv^-o GoDies Received 

MAK 12 m^ 

CopyriKiU iintry 

cuss CU KAc, iMu, 

COPY a. 



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The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 



VARIATION I 



VARIATION I 

PSYCHE had built a snug little house, 
where she thought to dwell securely 
forever. Will had been her architect; 
the bricks he used were made of Content 
and he cemented them together with 
Activity. Psyche w^as highly pleased with 
the long-desired habitation and kept at 
home very closely. 

One day when she was cheerfully at 
work there, she looked up and saw a 
gigantic form approaching. Curiosity, 
mingled with fear, drew her to the door. 

**Art thou Death.?" she whispered, 
awestruck, when the mysterious presence 
stopped by her side. 

*'I am Love," he answered calmly. 

"Oh, well, happy journey to you!" 
and hastily stepping back into her house. 
Psyche closed the door somewhat abruptly 
and bolted it securely. 

There was a gentle but imperious 
7 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

knock. ''Such things are best ignored," 
she said to herself, and began to whistle 
as she sat down to her work again. 

The knocking continued. 

'*Bang away! My house is firm and 
strong ! " As if to contradict her, a harder 
blow at this moment made it tremble in 
its foundations. Psyche decided to 
change her policy. ''Really," she cried 
through the door, in as calm and superior 
a tone as she could muster, "really, I must 
beg to be excused. I am exceedingly 
busy just now." 

A series of louder strokes was the reply. 

"Well then, if you insist, come in ! " 

"I never enter under such a roof!" 

"Then don't!" 

Crash — fell the little house, as though 
it had been built of cards. 

" Come ! " said the stranger. 

Defiantly she closed her eyes, crossed 
her arms, and planted her feet firmly on 
the ground amid the poor ruins. 

"Come!" he repeated and laid an iron 
8 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

hand upon her wrist. "Who art thou to 
resist a force that sways the universe ? " 

'*I am a self-determined being," 
Psyche cried. ''I am free and shall never 
acknowledge anybody as my master!" 
With that she jerked her hand to shake off 
his grip, and they began to wrestle. 
Desperately Psyche struggled with the 
superior foe, but at last she lay, panting 
and helpless, in the dust. 

Then the other stooped down to her, 
unshrouded his beautiful face and spoke : 

''Poor, foolish child! Dost really not 
know whose messenger I am.^" 

She looked up and saw on his brow the 
seal of God the Almighty. Then she 
yielded, and he gathered her in_his arms 
and carried her gently heavenward. 



VARIATION II 



VARIATION II 

LOVE and Hope were born in the 
same hour, and hand in hand they 
journeyed on their destined course, in- 
separable comrades. 

But when they reached the Valley of 
the Shadow of Death, Hope hung back, 
shivering; and Love, beholding pallor 
spreading on his sister's face, tried to en- 
courage her with cheering words, begging 
her not to forsake him, and reminding 
her how they had overcome, united, all 
difficulties in their way so far. Scarcely, 
however, had they taken a few steps in 
that baneful valley, when Hope sank like 
a tender blossom, wilted by the sting of 
some malicious insect. Then Love knelt 
by the lifeless form, imploring her to come 
back to him. At last, all efforts to revive 
her having failed, he dug with his own 
hands her grave and laid her in it, turning 
the silent face back to the sunny land fhey 
IS 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

left behind; having thus buried Hope, 
he faced the terrors of the valley once 
again. 

But soon he found his feet unsteady 
without Hope's buoyant step keeping 
time by his side, his eyes seemed dim to 
penetrate the gloom without the cheering 
light from hers; and, turning backward 
in despair, he sat down by her grave, 
covered his face and wished for death. 

There was a light touch on his shoulder. 
Looking up, he saw a slender figure stand- 
ing by his side. She was shrouded in 
flowing veils of gray from head to foot, 
and from a pale but not ignoble face 
two deep-set eyes gazed piercingly at 
him. 

"Why weepest thou.^" the stranger 
asked, as Love remained there, motion- 
less and mute. 

"I have just buried here my sister 
Hope. Onward I must, and yet I cannot 
cross this land alone!" 

"Entrust thyself to me! I have the 
14 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

same way, and I know it well. My home 
is in these regions, lonesome travelers have 
a claim to me!" 

While speaking thus, she laid her hand 
on his shoulder again, and Love felt a 
compelling force drawing him onward. 
Yet with reluctance did he yield, and half 
unwilling. 

**Art weary, friend.^ Thy step seems 
faltering ! Lean harder on me still ! " 

**Thou art so strange, though kind! 
Who art thou that passest, unhurt, 
through these suffocating vapors ?'' 

*'They call me Melancholy; but what 
are names ?'' Her voice was ever gentle, 
but at times a fire lurked in her eyes that 
made him shiver, and her supporting arm 
seemed leaden weight, as they marched 
on. Closer and closer she drew her veils 
about him, more lifeless and oppressive 
every minute grew the air, huge moun- 
tain-walls, between which they wandered, 
met almost overhead. With diflficulty 
only Love drew breath — he stumbled. 
15 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

"Wouldst rest awhile? I watch you 
while you sleep.'' 

Sleep ? If utter darkness and power- 
lessness to move are sleep! No rest, but 
crowds of horrid images! Above him 
hovers, resting on hideous wings, a vam- 
pire of gigantic size, eyeing his victim. 
Now he descends in silent circles, which 
grow smaller, smaller, as he draw s near — 
now he alights and strikes his fangs into 
the quivering heart. 

That pain did break the spell and set 
Love free. Not free. His frightened 
eyes, on opening, behold his traveling 
companion crouching on his breast. 
How changed she is! Gentle no more, her 
hands hold him with iron grip, her glance 
wild with a tiger's thirst for blood. 

Then such a cry of terror and of an- 
guish breaks from Love's lips that it 
shakes the towering walls of that dismal 
cave and, rending them, pierces beyond. 

And lo! On pinions white descends 
a heavenly form, shedding a soft light as 
16 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

she comes. When Melancholy sees her, 
growling she loosens hold, and, step by 
step, withdraws into the darkness. 

But the deliverer bends her sweet face 
over Love, who still lies prostrate on the 
ground and marvels. 

Is this my sister Hope.? Hast thou 
come to my aid.? No, thou art taller, 
stronger! Yet thy touch is hers! Oh, 
speak to me ! 

The other smiled, not Hope's smile, and 
then said: 'My name is Faith! Arise, it 
is not well to linger here! Arise, fear not, 
but follow me! There's much beyond!" 



VARIATION III 



VARIATION III 

IT was the sunset hour of a summer 
day. Sweet fragrance arose from 
the flowerbeds of a country garden in 
which a young woman busied herself at 
the rosebushes, while keeping an eye on 
some curly-headed children, and directing 
the servants at their task of watering the 
plants. She expected her husband back 
from a little journey, and once in a while 
she raised her head and listened. 

Now all the withered blossoms were 
clipped. She seated herself on a rustic 
bench, her thoughtful face turned toward 
the glories of the western sky. -Expecta- 
tion, sunset splendors, balmy air saturated 
with scent of roses and mignonette — 
where, when, in the long ago, had she felt 
the same mingling of sensations before.^ 

Yes, that was it ! Before the house of her 
grandparents, the home of her childhood, 
she stood in the narrow path, a profusion 
21 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

of old-fashioned flowers all around; the 
sun had slowly disappeared below the 
horizon, leaving indescribable tints of 
purple, red, and gold on the sky, and in 
her heart a nameless longing for — what ? 
*'I really do not know, grandmother," 
she had said, when the dear old lady 
asked what the tears in her eyes meant, 
*'I really do not know! But this all 
seems so beautiful it makes you feel as 
though you were living just in a dream, 
and it makes you want something, I do 
not know what!" 

Whereupon she had hid her face on 
grandmother's shoulder and had sobbed 
a little, quite gently. And grandmother 
had smiled and stroked her hair, but in 
the evening she said to grandfather: ** We 
must not keep the child here to ourselves, 
she is young and will get dreamy and 
lonely between us old people." And in 
the fall they had taken her to town to 
a house full of young cousins, where there 
was merriment, laughter, and company 
22 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

every day. She had enjoyed it — at first. 
Then louder and louder a voice had cried 
within her: **But this is all so empty, so 
unreal!" and finally she had asked for 
permission to go home. 

"Wait till spring, child," — the aston- 
ished aunt had said. But when spring 
came, the dear old house remained closed, 
nobody tended the flowers in the quaint 
garden, and soon the property passed into 
the hands of strangers. 
^ It had been a very hard blow for her! 
With gratitude she remembered the kind- 
ness of her aunt in this her first afl3iction ! 
How they had tried to make her feel at 
home; how she had been encouraged to 
divert her grief by eager studies; how, 
finally, her youth had adapted itself 
quickly enough to her surroundings, 
outwardly at least. 

Was she ever quiet and serious ? *' Just 
wait until you have a home of your own," 
the aunt would say, '* husband and chil- 
dren take these notions out of you ! " 
23 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

And how everybody congratulated her, 
when her present husband's eager atten- 
tions foreshadowed the unquestioned bliss 
of such possessions! Yes, she had been 
very happy during those short months of 
his courtship; with the flush of her new 
importance, the excitement of preparing 
for her new^ estate, no end of pleasant 
surprises, blushes on her part, teasing, 
giggling, envious sighs from her girl 
friends. 

And yet — had all that been, had all 
that led to a life of that full reality for 
which she was thirsting ? She recalled 
her first misgivings, the reappearance of 
that great question-mark in her soul. 
Perhaps everybody had it ? Perhaps her 
husband too ? 

"Do you ever feel that this is not all ?'' 
she had faltered out one day, when the 
craving for fellowship within her had 
become supreme. She never forgot the 
disturbed glance with which he, speech- 
less, had searched her face in reply. The 

24 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

next day he bought her horse and carriage 
and she never asked him again. 

But there was a new hope coming to 
her. ''I am going to be a mother," she 
had said to herself exultingly. Surely, 
what everybody called the crowning glory 
of a woman's life would fill the hungry 
abyss in her soul. 

''And have I not been singularly 
blessed," she exclaimed, rising to her feet. 
''What a grateless, peevish wretch I am. 
Come, sweethearts, time to go to bed 
now% father may not come home to- 
night!" And she ran after them in a 
mock chase, catching them just by the 
garden door, and covering their glowing 
faces with kisses from a conscience- 
smitten heart. 

When she rose, one child at either 
side and the youngest in her arms, a man 
had opened the gate and was advancing 
toward her. As she met him, he intro- 
duced himself as an old friend of her 
husband's, whose acquaintance he wished 
25 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

to renew since chance took him into this 
neighborhood. There was something in 
his bearing and manner which made her 
say, almost without hesitation: 

"1 expected him back this evening. 
He may yet come, and certainly will be 
here to-morrow. Will you not stay and 
wait for him.^" 

She bade^a servant look to his comfort 
and herself took the children upstairs. 
When she joined him later she watched 
him carefully while entertaining him 
with such light conversation as is natural 
between strangers, yet feeling all the 
time that this talk was not worthy of them ; 
when suddenly, to a question regarding 
his vocation, her guest replied : 

*'I am a seeker after the Real, also,'* 
and a smile of such understanding and 
sympathy illumined for an instant his 
serious face that a great, warm happiness 
of fellowship welled up in her heart. 

"Is that why I seem to have known you 
always," she answered, without knowing 
26 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

what she said. ''Do tell me a little of what 
you have found out by your searching so 
far!" 

And the silent stranger became elo- 
quent as he told of his wanderings and 
seeking, his disappointments and his 
hopes. While she listened the happy 
glow in her heart went on increasing, 
burning the petty joys and cares of her 
past life like chaff. The vision of a para- 
dise dreamed of in childhood had de- 
scended to her, and for the first time 
she knew why she was living. 

They had forgotten time and hour, 
until the flickering lights reminded them 
of it. 

''It is late, and I have kept yoaup too 
long," she said, as one awakening from 
a dream. "You must be so tired." 

"It has been a great pleasure for me," 
he answered in the same conventional 
way. His eyes said: "It was delight." 

"And to-morrow.?" 

"To-morrow at sunrise I must be on 
27 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

my way again!" There was infinite 
sadness in his voice. Their eyes met 
again. "How can you leave me.^" hers 
questioned. ''Must I go on alone.?" his 
pleaded. They stood for a moment in 
silence. Then a radiant smile passed 
over her face : 

"Until to-morrow, then," she nodded, 
fleeing upstairs like a doe. 

But she was not ready to rest! Every 
pulse in her beat with this new, over- 
flowing happiness! She paced up and 
down for a while, incapable of keeping 
still, murmuring to herself, "To-morrow, 
to-morrow!" 

She threw herself down before her 
couch, sobbing "Great God! can a mor- 
tal hold such happiness!" Suddenly she 
stopped. Her hand had touched a pillow 
— her husband's pillow. This was his 
bed, his house! She drew^ herself up. 
Quiet, as she suddenly was, she could 
hear a soft muttering from the adjoining 
room. Those were her children! She 
28 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

rose very slowly. For a minute the reali- 
zation of the situation kept her as spell- 
bound, — then a wave of humiliation 
broke over her. 

"Good God! What sort of a woman 
am I, betraying the holiest ties to a 
stranger, and in the very house given into 
my keeping!" 

** Holiest ties.^ Stranger.^" a sneering 
echo seemed to repeat. '*He is no 
stranger to your soul, and which are 
holiest ties.^" 

She brooded awhile, then energetically 
lit a taper and walked into the next room. 
The sight of her children would surely 
strengthen her conscience. 

How often she had gone thus to the 
little beds, listening to the soft, regular 
breathing of the babies, gently brushing 
back a stray curl from the rosy cheeks of 
one, covering up bared little legs, and 
feeling deepest, peaceful joy of mother- 
hood surging in her heart! But now, 
just when she sought it, that tenderness 
29 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

did not come to her. Instead of it, 
incredible to herself, — a coldness, almost 
an aversion, against this offspring of a 
union which all at once seemed unhal- 
lowed, unnatural! How they resembled 
their father! Could she ever caress them 
again ? How would they get along with- 
out her? Children forget so quickly! 
They would be well cared for! If she 
should die, things would have to be man- 
aged, and this was a call as irresistible 
as death! 

As irresistible P Wrath seized her 
against any teachings of her youth that 
asserted their quiet presence by that 
question. If she just were a woman cap- 
able of simply following her inclinations, 
instead of being handicapped, tram- 
meled, in this one overwhelming experi- 
ence of her life! She chafed at her fate, 
running up and down in the room until 
physical fatigue forced her to sit down. 
Hot tears of anger mellowed to tears of 
self-pity — laying her head upon her 
30 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

arms on the window-sill she closed her 
eyes. 

When they opened again she could not 
tell whether she had been asleep or not. 
But the stars had grown dim overhead, 
white masses of mist were floating over 
the meadows, indistinct contours of trees 
and houses began to outline themselves. 

Dawn! This was the morning she 
had scarcely been able to expect last 
night! What would it bring to her.^ 
"At sunrise," he had said. 

In the awe of daybreak the conflict 
within her did not seem laid, but elevated 
and ennobled. 

Would she go, in a little while, softly 
creeping down the stairs, to say to him, 
'*I am ready .^" Iron chains seemed to 
draw her to the door. 

Was he struggling, as she was, at this 
moment ? If he did take her with him — 
was he a man to be trusted ? If she went 
— would she not be a burden, possibly 
a shame to him ? There was the door — 

31 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

more and more light without. She felt 
helpless, buoyed up and down in a torrent 
of feelings that benumbed her will. 

Hark! Was not that a hushed foot- 
step! With every nerve strained to listen, 
an indescribable horror seized her. 
Would he call — would he wait ? 

An uncertain hand moved the bolt of 
the house door just below her window. 
A little creak, as it opened and closed 
again ! 

He must be outside now ! Was he for- 
saking her ? Did he despise her ? Pride 
brought back her self-possession. She 
moved a little away from the window. 

A tall form approached the garden 
gate, passed through it, turned back his 
head. Two burning, sunken eyes in an 
ashen, haggard face ran passionately over 
the row of the upper windows — then the 
form bounded away and, still running, 
was soon lost in the distance. 

The whole nobleness of this flight 
flashed upon her — first with a flush of 
32 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

exultation, leaving, the next instant, a 
sense of bereavement keener than she 
could bear. 

She threw herself down again before 
her bed, and, in an agonized and broken 
prayer, met the Reality she had always 
sought. 



VARIATION IV 



VARIATION IV 

DO you know the Never, Never Land ? 
I hope you never have been there, 
nor ever will be! 

In the Never, Never Land the sun has 
lost its brightness, and moon and stars 
are gone. Instead, there flash from the 
dark heavens an Aurora Borealis of 
horror, in flaming letters the words: 
Never! Never! In their dread light 
you can distinguish just enough to see 
that you are walking on dead ashes. 
Crushed beneath your tread, they crunch 
and groan out: Never! Never! Black, 
lusterless, a shriveled vegetation here and 
there forms clumps of darker shadow. 
On every leaf and blade red glowing veins 
form the inscription : Never ! Never ! To 
quench your thirst you follow gurgling 
sounds of water; but when you reach the 
dark pool whence they come and bend 
37 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

clown to moisten your parched lips, it 
bubbles up and sizzles: Never! Never! 

Yet you find yourself in good company 
amid these horrors, for none that is thought- 
less or shallow or unfeeling can find the 
way to the Never, Never Land, and there 
are many distinguished and brilliant 
people among its sad inhabitants. 
Some of them, by reason of strength, 
have overcome the leaden apathy which 
falls upon those who dwell there long; 
they exercise their faculties, as best they 
can, for their own entertainment and for 
the benefit of others. The most talented 
among them have systematized all sights 
and sounds into Never, Never Sym- 
phonies, — Literature and Philosophies. 
Those of a practical turn of mind en- 
deavor to bring light into the mournful 
land by fireworks of their own making — 
but alas, the sparks from all their gor- 
geous firewheels and sky-rockets trace 
nothing but a rain of fiery: Never, 
Nevers! in the gloomy dark! Still 
38 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

others go about doing good to their 
fellow-sufferers: they press their hands 
with sympathetic sighs and bind up 
bleeding feet. But the Never, Never in 
their eyes is the most heart-wringing 
part of it all. 

Finally exhaustion falls upon you from 
stumbling about in the dusky wilderness. 
You feel no more the smarting of your 
bruised feet nor the thirst that consumes 
your very soul in you, for the dazzling of 
the fiery letters everywhere, the moaning 
of the same dismal sound have stunned 
all other sensations. 



There is a dark, dark passage in a 
mountain, which in their search for es- 
cape those find whom God loveth. When 
they have groped their way through it 
for a long time, they finally perceive light 
from the other side, and it is not the flam- 
ing scarlet of the Never! Never! any more. 
It is softer than the moonlight, yet brighter 
39 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

than the sun, and the soul passing out 
into it feels like those who dream. 

For where are the horrors of yesterday ? 
Bathed in the wonderful light extend be- 
fore you all the marvels of creation. All 
that ever has been is here present, yet 
not crowded nor at war. Neither does 
anything appear ugly or unhappy in this 
transfiguration. One veil of mist after 
the other is lifted and discloses to the 
amazed eye beauties untold and un- 
dreamed of, all bearing the radiant 
stamp: Ever! Ever! The ocean of 
Eternity bounds this land, and as its 
silver ripples softly lap against the shore 
of Time, they murmur Ever, Ever. 

Here wander with you, light-stepped, 
to the music of the spheres, blessed souls, 
— some near, some like a luminous 
vision in the distance, and the Ever! Ever! 
which like a halo flows out of their very 
being, is the crowning glory of it all. 
Eagerly, yet without impatience, they 
press on towards perfect union in a 
40 



VARIATIONS ON AN OLD THEME 

common goal, delighted with the way 
they tread, delighted more with the hope 
before them. 

Farther and farther you see, and, 
seeing, miderstand, and, understanding, 
love. All is yours, all is eternal, and all 
is moving forward. Now you know that 
you have come to the Ever, Ever Land, 
and you also know that you came by the 
only road to it. And did I say: I hope 
you never w ere in the Never, Never Land, 
nor ever will he? I would not say that 
any more. 



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